


Of Binding and, More Importantly, Bonding

by anotherdirtycomputer



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Trans Male Character, Trans Will Solace, Transgender Characters, Tumblr Prompt, adoptive families, bonding between trans men, send me prompts at demiboypercyjackson on tumblr, trans male OC, trans man will solace, trans original character, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 08:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherdirtycomputer/pseuds/anotherdirtycomputer
Summary: A camper comes into the infirmary to talk to Will about a personal matter. Luckily, Will finds himself in a similar bind.





	Of Binding and, More Importantly, Bonding

**Author's Note:**

> hahahaaaaa that title summary combo though. damn im funny. wrote this at 5 am while depressed as heck so hopefully its good!

Will Solace had seen a lot of things in his days as head medic of Camp Half Blood, head surgeon on the battlefield, and head counselor of the Apollo cabin. A lot of those things had scared him, had scarred him, and had left him gasping for breath afterwards, waking from night terrors that shook him awake to stare at the moon as if asking for guidance. Most of these things included the sinew-y stubs of missing limbs, bloodied wounds left by claws and teeth, or insides that were, decidedly, no longer _in_ sides; things like that. There were other things, too, that shook him - these for an entirely different reason.

There were other things, too, that hit far too close to home.

To set the scene: it was a relatively quiet day. There hadn’t been any new campers for a few weeks now, so there were less newbies getting injured trying to “climb the totem pole” and impress people. No one had come back from any quests recently and likely wouldn’t for a week yet at least. There’d only been a handful minor injuries so far for the day. Younger campers coming in with scratched knees or aching tummies had been the most of Will’s worries for the majority of the morning and he was rather glad for it.

At least, until Mateo Herrera came into the infirmary.

Now, Mateo; he was a good kid. Mateo, in fact, was a very good kid and very rarely ended up in the infirmary. Mostly, Will knew him from the few times Austin could manage to drag his older brother to his music classes. Mateo played the trombone and was very good at it for a beginner. Will respected that. By Kayla’s descriptions, he was also quite good at archery - it was almost uncanny, in fact, how close the two sharp-shooters were in ability, despite Mateo being much newer to the craft.

Distantly, Will wondered when Apollo would hurry up and claim the boy. He was unclaimed and had been for the six months he’d been at camp. Surely it wouldn’t be much longer, right?

This was what Will thought often in regards to the younger boy, but was definitely far from his thoughts when Mateo whispered his reason for being there.

“Will,” said Mateo, his whisper fear-filled and a bit too loud. “My chest has been hurting and I think I know why.”

Normally, Will would chalk it up to growing pains, give dear Matty-boy an aspirin or something, and send him on his way out, but the way Mateo was holding himself seemed more serious. He was obviously very sore and seemed to have difficulty breathing comfortably.

“Why’s that, Mr. Herrera?” Will said as nicely as he could (though Nico told him often that his bedside manner when he was in “Doctor Mode” was oftentimes absolutely dreadful and usually hilariously so).

Mateo’s dark brown eyes looked down at his red and black sneakers, his weight shifting from his left side to his right. He looked up at Will in embarrassment, taking a hand up to smooth the dark curls growing out of his head. “Well,” he said. “I have kind of a… body issue. And the way I take care of it makes it ache.”

Will nodded seriously, hoping distantly that his eyes conveyed kindness. “What is this issue, Mateo?”

He coughed, which quickly died and turned into a wince, accompanied by a slight wince. Mateo admitted with difficulty, “I have breasts. And I… bandage them to make them less noticeable b-but-”

“Wait,” Will’s eyes grew wide and he knew he was showing a bit of teeth, but he couldn’t help himself. The look on his face was undoubtedly the same expression he’d made many an occasion - occasions such as, for example, the first time Austin said “bitch” and the first time Kayla admitted that she kind of wanted to join the Hunters of Artemis (but that was a story for a different time). It was a look of disappointment - the shocked, protectively angry kind of disappointment. “Bandage, you said?”

Face full of shame, Mateo nodded. “Yeah, ace bandages. They aren’t that good but they can make you pretty flat-”

Will put down the clipboard he’d been holding as carefully as he could. Without meaning to, he’d begun to grip it so hard that his knuckles had turned white and since he didn’t want to break it, it seemed wiser this way. “Mr. Herrera, will you follow me to the back? I’d like you to take those bandages off for a quick x-ray. This may be urgent.”

Mateo nodded, visibly sweating. “Okay,” his voice shook. “Yeah, no problem.”

In a few minutes time, Mateo had taken the x-rays, and seemed very glad to be out of the ace bandages, though Will could see those lines setting into the younger boy’s face that seemed to spell one thing, a thing Will knew very well; dysphoria. Will knew it wouldn’t be easy for poor Mateo, but he had to put his foot down.

“No more binding.” Will demanded. Mateo opened his mouth to protest but the blond shook his golden-haired head. “No. No _buts_ and no _whats_. I’m the doctor and I say no binding, at least for a while. Ace bandages are _not_  okay, Matty.”

Mateo looked down at his feet again, examined the light reflecting off of the three remaining aglets. His eyes shined too, only with tears.

Will sighed, his heart maybe breaking a little. “Mateo… I understand, okay? But there are better ways. Safer ways. Your ribs aren’t like normal bones. Those bandages can squeeze them all wrong, break them even. You seem to be mostly alright, luckily, it was smart of you to come to me, but… I’ll check the x-ray just to be sure.”

Mateo nodded. He rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand and sniffled. “Thanks. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Will said. “Be safer. I’m gonna have to ask you not to bind for _at least_  a week. But, don’t worry. I won’t bind either. You won’t be alone in this.”

Mateo made a face, confused. “Wait, I don’t understand. What do you mean you won’t either?”

“I’m trans, too, Matty-man.” Will shrugged. “I don’t really hide it. But, after all this, I can help you get a real binder too. You’re a bigger size than me,” Will was a bean pole of a boy and Mateo was much shorter and a bit chubby. He’d definitely need a bigger size - Will was already theorizing his measurements, which, once he realized he was, was a bit creepy. “So I can’t lend you one of mine, but we can get them here easily enough.”

“How?”

Will shrugged again. “Mr. D is the genderfluid patron god of transgender and gender non-conforming individuals. I’m always surprised more people don’t know that.”

Mateo smiled for the first time since he’d walked into the infirmary. “Wait, really?”

Will nodded. “Yup. I would be, except I’m not genderfluid and also about a gazillion years too late.” Mateo laughed, so Will continued. “Some sweet benefits, though, right?” Giggling quietly, Mateo nodded in agreement, and Will let himself relax a bit.

It had been a long time since Will was in Mateo’s shoes, and had definitely been lucky to have Cecil’s mother, who was and always would be PFLAG to the grave and had _immediately_ done everything she could to help this baby she had taken in, to help this boy she’d barely known be true to himself and to the people around him. As soon as Will had begun to have noticeable… unwanted developments, he’d gotten his first binder - a simple black tank that had meant the world to him. It was too small now, but he still had it. Sentimental value and all that.

If Mateo had been able to fit it, however, Will would’ve handed it over. No one had told him that ace bandages were bad, it was obvious. No one had helped him cut his hair, which was a mess of curls cut at short but varying lengths once you saw it up close. No one had helped Mateo _be_ Mateo. And Will would do anything to give this kid the same kind of influence that his mama - and he would always call her that, Mama - had given him.

“Wait,” Mateo murmured. “You mean that? You won’t bind either?”

Will shook his head. “Nope. Think of it like… a blood pact. Except, instead of blood, it’s boobs. A boob pact.”

Mateo bit his lip to keep from laughing. “A boob pact?”

Solemn as he knew how to be, Will nodded. “A boob pact. A sacred bond between trans brothers. If you have to free ball it, then I will too.”

It was a moment that passed, in near silence, a kind of special care in the air between them, before Mateo tentatively smiled. “Thank you, Will.”

And Will smiled. “Of course, bud. Now…. Let’s take a look at those x-rays, huh? And then we can talk colors for your binder.”

“I like red.”

“Red is _definitely_  your color. Absolutely yes.”

Maybe this encounter with Mr. Herrera wouldn’t wake Will shaking in the dead of night. Maybe it wouldn’t hold his mind for long in daylight hours, even - the problem was solved, after all, and Mateo was safe. There was more to care for, more patients to heal and help. But, when Will would lay down for the night, pajamas warm and clean, blanket soft, pillows fluffed and cool, Will would be unable to close his eyes. He’d be stuck thinking of every home like the one he himself had grown up in - if you could call those places homes. His mind would whir with thoughts of every transgender child with a sad face and a lie on their name tag. _Things are better now_ , he tells himself. _I’m safe now. I can help kids in ways more important than even I realize._ Sometimes, it helps him sleep. The look on Mateo’s face when he sees his first binder… it helps. The look on Mama’s face when he tosses a golden drachma into a spray of rainbow mist just before bed, the yell of happy surprise when she notices the call… it helps.

But, as with everything, there is still work to be done.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are a writers best friends! and hmu with more trans prompts at demiboypercyjackson on tumblr!


End file.
